


Marshal Leonis Said Gay Rights!

by ArchangelUnmei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clubbing, Gay Pride, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, No Daemons No War No Problem, even ardyn, everyone is queer and happy, idek how else to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelUnmei/pseuds/ArchangelUnmei
Summary: Cor is a living Lucian legend for many reasons. Supposedly he took down a Jabberwock solo at age fifteen, earning him the nickname Immortal and a place in the Crownsguard despite their legal recruitment age being eighteen. He personally guarded Regis Caelum (along with his Shield, of course) on a diplomatic tour around the continent, and has remained a close personal friend of the royal family ever since. He was promoted to the post of Marshal of the Crownsguard at age twenty-seven, the youngest Marshal in recorded history.And he's queer. Openly so, attending Insomnian Pride every summer and usually the satellite Lestallum Pride if he can swing the trip. He talks openly about the fact he's gay, has always known he's gay, wanted to join the Crownsguard at least partially because there was so much tension between law enforcement and the queer community, and he wanted to try and make it better. And he has, slowly but surely, rewriting Crownsguard code and hiring practices, liaising as much as he can to try and ease tensions and make the city a better, safer place for everyone. So much so that a lion with a rainbow mane has become a widespread symbol of queer pride.
Relationships: Background Gil/Ardyn, Background Libertus/Pelna, Clarus Amicitia & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum, Clarus Amicitia/Regis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum & Cor Leonis, Titus Drautos | Glauca/Cor Leonis
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94
Collections: DrauCor Christmas Exchange 2019





	Marshal Leonis Said Gay Rights!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDarkLordMegatron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/gifts).



> Merry Holidays Vex! This thing is a beast. It ended up more as a 'story with DrauCor in it', but I hope you enjoy.

In downtown central Insomnia, there is a bar called Nocturne that has been there for almost fifty years. It's the city's oldest gay bar, with a reputation of being a good place to meet people; both to hook up and to find friends, comrades, people who understand. The atmosphere is warm and all are welcome, so long as you're respectful. 

Inside, to one side of the dance floor, behind an area with tables and couches for patrons to relax, there is a wall of photos. Some are newspaper clippings, great moments in Insomnia's queer history, both good and bad. Some are photos of past Pride festivals, and a lot are photos of the bar's patrons and staff over the years. Noctis' picture is there, with Lunafreya and Prompto kissing him on each cheek. It's pretty well known in Insomnia's queer community that their Prince is bisexual, even if he's not 'out' to the general populace yet. Gladio's picture is there too, laughing as someone dumps a bucket of water over his head and white shirt translucent and clinging, with a small etched plaque underneath that reads _'Wet T-shirt Champion'_. 

"Someday we'll get Iggy up here..." Prompto muses, mostly to himself. It's still early in the evening, and the bar is quiet. Gladio and Noctis have gone to grab drinks, and Prompto is idly looking at the photos on the wall. It's strange to feel such a sense of solidarity with people he'll probably never meet, but here they all are, hanging on Nocturne's wall. 

He pauses, squinting at a couple photos in particular. They're at the end of the wall nearest the bar, which means they're some of the oldest. One of them shows a teenage boy perched on one of the bar stools, wearing heavy black boots, tight black shorts and a silver mesh shirt, with a bright rainbow belt slung around his hips. He's grinning maniacally, flipping off the camera with both hands, and even through the faded tones of the photograph Prompto can feel him vibrating with too much energy to be contained in one lanky teenage body. 

Something about the boy seems... familiar, somehow, but before Prompto can decipher what it is, he's distracted by the photo hanging beside it. It's a slightly larger print, in a frame that matches the first one, and it was clearly taken on the dance floor here at Nocturne. It's a little blurry and washed out; Prompto can tell the lighting when it was taken wasn't the best, but the subject comes through crystal clear. 

There's a guy who looks around twenty, built like Gladio with a barrel chest and arms as thick around as Prompto's waist. He's wearing tight jeans and chunky boots that were in fashion about thirty years ago, and a skin-tight t-shirt with Nocturne's logo on it. He must have been staff. Prompto's going to guess bouncer, since he looks completely exasperated and has some twink flung ass-up over his shoulder. Both of them are completely coated in iridescent rainbow glitter, and a plastic bucket discarded on the dance floor by their feet hints at the story that happened there. 

Actually... Comparing the two photos, the boots and booty shorts of the glitter-flinging twink match the ones worn by the manic teenager in the first photo, so it must be the same boy. Prompto can't help bursting into laughter, wondering what exactly went on there, where those two boys - men, now - might be today. 

"What're you laughing at?" Noctis asks, wandering over to lean against Prompto's shoulder. Prompto points out the two photos, still giggling. Rather than laughing along with him, though, Noctis' eyes go wide. "Oh." 

"What?" Prompto asks, his own laughter trailing off. "What 'oh'?" 

Noctis clears his throat, looking a little bit like he's seen a ghost. Before he can actually answer, Gladio wanders back over, followed by the bartender. 

"Ah," the bartender smiles fondly when he sees what they're looking at. "Two of our favourite regulars. They still come around every few weeks. Not that you need to come to Nocturne to see them, Highness." 

"Nope," Noctis says, sounding a little faint. Prompto sighs loudly and nudges Noctis in the ribs. 

"Something you want to share with the class, Noct?" he huffs, but Gladio beats him to it. 

The Shield sips his drink and leans forward, nonchalantly tapping the photo of the bouncer. "That's Titus Drautos, before my dad hired him." His hand moves, pointing at the teenager who's still radiating 'fight me!' from a thirty-year-old photo, but Prompto's eyes are already going round in realization before Gladio even says anything. 

"That's Cor." 

\-------- 

_"What the fuck, how old are you, kid?"_

_"I'm twenty."_

_"Bullshit. **I'm** twenty. How old are you really?"_

_"....Seventeen."_

\--------- 

Nyx doesn't often go out by himself. 

Galahdians by nature are communal, moving about in packs or at least pairs, and the bonds of the Kingsglaive have only strengthened that tendency. Usually, his off hours are spent either in his apartment Facetiming Selena and his parents back home, or out and about with the rest of the Glaives. They have their usual bars that they like; the Galahdian-owned place only a block from the apartment building where most of them rent, the one place with the really good micro-brewery that's near the Citadel, the hole-in-the-wall they found when they were already three bars in which turned out to have the most _amazing_ cocktails in the city. They have their rotation, and for the last year or two they've gotten out of the habit of going anywhere new. 

But on this particular night, Selena is busy studying for her entrance exams to an Insomnian university that would have her moving to within actual arms reach, so it's the last thing Nyx wants to distract her from. Crowe is doing some extra magey magicky practice, Libertus is feeling under the weather. Luche and Pelna and Axis are all likewise busy, and Nyx has too much self-respect than to hang out with Tredd solo. 

So he's on his own, and it's weird. 

He does his laundry, fixes some extra food so he'll have leftovers later in the week, and spends a few minutes staring out his window at nothing in particular before he decides he's going stir crazy. The weather is nice tonight, clear and not too hot, so he doesn't have any destination in mind as he sets out on a walk. It's still fairly early, the sun only just disappearing behind the buildings, and Insomnia is still alive and bustling with people. 

Nyx lets the flow of foot traffic sweep him along, wandering and confident in his ability to find his way home (or at least, his ability to MoogleMaps directions on his phone). He'd started to forget how much he enjoys exploring new places, and how _much_ of Insomnia he's never explored. 

He keeps the rising spires of the Citadel in the corner of his eye, using that as a waypoint as he meanders roughly towards it. The buildings around him change from residential to businesses, tall glass office buildings and older stone edifices that hold all of Insomnia's central mechanisms that have spilled out from the Citadel over the years. 

He turns east, putting the Citadel to one side, and the buildings change again. Or at least, their purposes do, the construction old and sturdy but the shopfronts trendy; restaurants and bars and clubs. Nyx has been in this area before, but he tries to look at it with new eyes, and then he spies the sign. 

It's subtle, compared to the neon and bright lights all around it. The building itself is dark, painted royal black with a few silver accents here and there. The front windows are curtained off in black too, but there are fairy lights hung among the curtains, rainbow colored stars that initially catch Nyx's eye. The sign over the door is elegant silver scrollwork, reading simply _'Nocturne'_ , and there's a hand-painted sign propped in one window, _'All are welcome'_ in a rainbow of colours. 

(Cor painted it, sometime in his twenties, sitting cross-legged on Nocturne's floor during off hours, debating with the bartender and the owner how a rainbow palette was 'gayer' than straight magenta and maroon and how much glitter was 'too much' glitter.) 

For some reason Nyx thinks the name Nocturne is familiar, though he can't remember where he heard it. But that's enough for him to be intrigued, and he pushes the door open to go in. 

He'd been expecting a wall of sound and light like at most other clubs in this trendy part of town, but he's surprised to find himself standing in a narrow entryway instead. He can definitely hear a thrum of music and voices, but it's muffled by the door at the other end, guarded by a bouncer who looks like he could easily be recruited for the Glaive. Nyx is impressed despite himself as he steps forward to pull out his military ID. The bouncer takes it to eye it critically, then raises an eyebrow silently at Nyx, who isn't exactly dressed for a club. 

Nyx just shrugs with a smile, and the bouncer hands him his ID back before gesturing that he can go inside. Nyx is a little surprised there isn't a cover charge of some kind, but he reaches out to push open the door. 

("All are welcome," the owner had drawled, the first time Titus hauled Cor into his office by the scruff of his glitter-dusted neck. "Anyone who needs a place to go to be themselves. Even if they're underage, Titus." A pause, a twinkle of mischief they'd both come to know well. "Just don't serve him drinks.") 

Inside, the music is loud but not overwhelmingly so. There's a moderately full dance floor right in front of him with a bar along the wall beyond it, and off to one side an area of softly lit tables and seating. There are a few couples getting cozy, but also several larger groups that are clearly there as just friends, laughing and drinking together. It's very easy for Nyx to imagine the Glaives arrayed at one of those tables, and makes a mental note to drag everyone back here in the very near future. He doesn't think there's a straight one among them anyway, and Crowe's been a bit insufferable since she broke up with her last girlfriend. Maybe they can kill a couple birds with one stone. 

Nyx immediately feels at home and relaxed in this atmosphere, and starts skirting his way around the edge of the dance floor to head for the bar. Drinking alone isn't a bad thing, maybe he'll get lucky and someone cute will start hitting on him. Even if not, it's worth it to Nyx to sit for awhile and soak in this ambiance. 

As he edges around the last group of dancers and finally gets a good look at the bar, at first nothing seems amiss. The bar is beautifully crafted wood and old brass trimmings, polished and pristine, the stools bolted in front of it worn but well-maintained and comfortable looking. Rather than a more traditional mirror behind the bar, the wall is painted with a mural; two young men embracing, staring longingly into each others' eyes as one of them lies dying of an apparently mortal wound in the other's arms. Nyx has a vague memory that it might be a literary scene, but it catches his attention because the one who seems to be dying is dressed all in black. Crownsguard, is his first assumption, except that the soles of his shoes are visible, and they're not painted red. Traditionally, if anyone is depicted wearing all black who's not a Crownsguard, they're meant to be a Lucis Caelum. 

This early in the evening the crowd is fairly light, only one bartender on duty. He's currently leaning across the bar, chatting with the group of men and women sitting clustered at the far end. 

But then Nyx takes a second look, and freezes in shock. There's two women, one a bit older and one who seems around Nyx's age, both dressed for clubbing in leather and lace. There's a man, somewhat older but not yet _old_ , dyed-magenta hair feathered around his face as he grins cheekily and leans over to steal a kiss from the bartender, who looks unimpressed. 

(Nocturne's owner, Nyx would learn eventually, and his long-time partner.) 

And there's Captain Titus Drautos, and Marshal Cor Leonis. Nyx hadn't recognized them on first glance because they're both wearing _jeans_ \- though Cor still has on his red-soled Crownsguard boots - and Cor is sitting on Titus' knee like that's the place he's most comfortable in the entire world. Titus has one arm looped around the Marshal's waist, two fingers idly tucked into Cor's waistband to caress the skin of his hip as he growls something into Cor's ear, making the entire group laugh- 

Holy shit. 

Most of the Glaive are aware that their Captain has a partner. He wears a plain gold ring on a chain around his neck, and if he's sparring in a plain t-shirt or tank top it has a tendency to fall into view. When asked about it, Titus freely admits that he would wear it on his hand, except he doesn't want it to mess with his sword grip at a crucial moment. It's perfectly fair reasoning; Axis also wears his wedding ring around his neck for exactly the same reason. 

But the Captain has always been incredibly resistant to further questioning than that. He'll clam up and glare if anyone tries to pry too far into his personal life, and after awhile most of the Glaives had stopped trying and accepted that Titus wants to keep his personal and professional lives completely separate. For some reason, Nyx has always assumed that Titus' partner is a woman, despite that his hiring practices have resulted in a very diverse, heavily queer group of Glaives. 

In hindsight, Nyx is an idiot. 

But the fact that his partner is _Cor fucking Leonis_ -! 

Cor is a living Lucian legend for many reasons. Supposedly he took down a Jabberwock solo at age fifteen, earning him the nickname Immortal and a place in the Crownsguard despite their legal recruitment age being eighteen. He personally guarded Regis Caelum (along with his Shield, of course) on a diplomatic tour around the continent, and has remained a close personal friend of the royal family ever since, even being named Prince Noctis' godfather. He was promoted to the post of Marshal of the Crownsguard at age twenty-seven, the youngest Marshal in recorded history, and anyone who protested that it was favoritism was invited to have their ass handed to them on a sparring mat. A few tried, but Cor proved decisively that he _deserved_ his place, friend of the King or not. 

And he's queer. Openly so, attending Insomnian Pride every summer and usually the satellite Lestallum Pride if he can swing the trip. He talks openly about the fact he's gay, has always known he's gay, wanted to join the Crownsguard at least partially because there was so much tension between law enforcement and the queer community, and he wanted to try and make it better. And he has, slowly but surely, rewriting Crownsguard code and hiring practices, liaising as much as he can to try and ease tensions and make the city a better, safer place for everyone. So much so that a lion with a rainbow mane has become a widespread symbol of queer pride. 

Nyx backpedals, ducking back around to the other side of the dance floor before either Captain or Marshal can catch sight of him. He feels weirdly like he's intruding, seeing them both so relaxed and happy and _intimate_ in a way they would never, ever be in the Citadel. 

Nyx wracks his brain, thinking about all the times he's seen the two of them in the same room, but their interactions have always been stoic and polite and completely professional. Sure, maybe Cor drops by the Kingsglaive training arena more often than he strictly needs to. Maybe Titus tends to deliver files and reports in person that he easily could have relegated to a courier. Maybe their eyes linger a little longer on each other than they do on anyone else, even if 'longer' is only a few fractions of a second. 

And now Nyx has a dilemma. 

He doesn't think the fact that Cor and Titus are together is a secret, not really, not if they're out in public together like this. There have even been a few tabloid photos of them together over the years; Nyx remembers assuming they were terrible fakes created for soap opera drama and laughing at them with the rest of the Glaives, never suspecting that they were actually the real deal. Similarly, _no one_ is going to believe that he actually saw them together, acting like a real couple. Nyx knows that a lot of people have a sort of 'work face' and 'off-duty face', but this is _ridiculous_. 

Luckily, he's not stupid enough to lurk around trying to get photos of them himself. He'll just have to present proof another way. 

\--------- 

Cor went to his first pride parade when he was sixteen, the year after the council under King Mors finally decriminalized homosexuality. 

It was still a fairly small thing then, the modern queer community just starting to form and figure out who they were now that they weren't going to be automatically criminalized or condemned. Legally, anyway. There was still so much bigotry and mistrust, misunderstanding about what it meant to be queer. 

And there was Cor, very young and very defiant, sure of his identity and ready to fight _anyone_ who told him otherwise. 

He still remembers the look on Regis' face when he said he was going to go. The seconds of quiet yearning before it slipped away behind a practiced smile, the way Clarus' eyes slid off to the side in something that wasn't shame. Maybe regret. 

Cor went to his first pride parade when he was sixteen. He held his head up proudly, shoulders squared, and quietly vowed to make Insomnia a place where everyone could be who they want to be, no matter what. No matter who they are. 

He goes because no matter what the law says, public opinion is stronger. 

He goes because the Caelums can't. 

The Amicitias can't. 

Not yet. 

Someday. That's Cor's promise. 

\--------- 

Prompto has always really admired Marshal Leonis. 

A lot of it is awe; Cor is easily acknowledged as one of the strongest fighters in the kingdom. When that rogue Behemoth had been causing trouble out in Duscae, the Hunters had called Cor for back-up. Supposedly before coming to Insomnia he learned to fight by hunting Coeurl and Sabertusk solo, as a _teenager_. Prompto knows that some of the stories are probably exaggerated, but _still_! 

And there's... a sort of kinship Prompto feels too. Cor was common-born, like Prompto. He didn't get where he is automatically, by accident of a well-placed family. And it's not like he was _trying_ to work his way into the royal family's inner circle. According to the stories it had happened just about by accident, Cor being set to guard Prince Regis and ending up basically adopted once they found out he was a poor orphan with no family. 

It's... Prompto can relate. He wouldn't trade his friendship with Noctis for anything, but sometimes it's overwhelming to realize the scope of his life now. Looking at Cor helps, he can see that there's someone else like him, dragged into the shining wake of the Lucis Caelums who was able to carve out a pretty good life for himself. 

Not that Prompto feels like he can compare himself to Cor either, though. No way. Even though Prompto did decide to join the Crownsguard, it was mostly so he could learn to fight and not be a burden if anything happened while he was hanging out with Noct. He'll never rise as high or fly as far as Cor Leonis, and Prompto is totally cool with that. 

(Clarus leans over and nudges Cor's shoulder in fond amusement, watching Prompto and Gladiolus sparring in the arena below them. "I think I'm having flashbacks. That Argentum kid is scrappy, think he'll make Marshal someday?" Cor just hums, but looks incredibly thoughtful.) 

So... yeah, Cor is honestly one of Prompto's idols, for a lot of reasons. And he's also Prompto's _boss_ , albeit several tiers up, which just makes it worse when Prompto needs to go see him. 

This isn't Crownsguard business either, so Prompto waits until training is done for the day, hanging around and trying not to fidget as the rest of the cadets in his cohort filter out, laughing and talking amongst themselves. He hangs around a little longer, psyching himself up, steadying himself with the thought that Cor's probably already gone home for the day. Totally. No need to be nervous since there won't be anyone in the Marshal's office anyway. 

So when he knocks and Cor's voice calls out 'Come in!', Prompto nearly jumps out of his skin. He chides himself, hoping he doesn't look like as much of a mess as he feels, and pushes the door open timidly. "Um, I just had a quick question, Marshal, Sir." 

Cor leans back in his desk chair and takes his reading glasses off, motioning for Prompto to come in and shut the door. This is actually the first time Prompto has been in his office, and he spends a moment looking around with wide eyes. It's mostly what he expected; big desk, lots of stuffed bookcases, a couch shoved into one corner and a couple chairs set near the door for visitors. 

But there's other things, little touches that make the room more... human than Prompto had been expecting. There's a sword hung up over the door, one that's clearly ceremonial more than functional, and Prompto realizes in awe that the hilt is made from the curling horn of a Behemoth, probably the same one he helped the Hunters take down. There are a couple photos set on the desk, though Prompto isn't at an angle to be able to see them, and there's another one hung on the wall. Prompto squints, and realizes he's seen it before, sitting on the mantle in Amicitia Manor. 

("King Regis, back when he was about our age," Gladio had explained when he saw Prompto looking, and he pointed out each figure in turn. "Cid Sophair, Weskham Armaugh, and Cor. My dad took the picture.") 

And there's a small rainbow pride flag stuck into a cleaned out Ebony can, along with pencils and pens. That makes Prompto feel a little more at ease, especially considering the question he's come to ask. 

"What can I do for you, Cadet Argentum?" Cor asks while Prompto's busy looking around, and it snaps Prompto's attention back to the Marshal. He's honestly surprised Cor knows who he is, and it must show on his face because Cor chuckles. "You're the Prince's best friend, of course I've kept an eye on you. In a good way, not in a 'waiting for you to fuck up' way." He raises an eyebrow at the look on Prompto's face, but his smile is gentle. "Trust me, I remember what it's like being a non-noble friend of nobles. What can I do for you?" 

At the repeat of the question, Prompto feels his flush only deepen, embarrassed that his anxieties are so transparent. He swallows and fixes his eyes on the pride flag, reminding himself there's a reason he's here. "I- I wanted to ask... am I allowed to go to the Pride Parade?" 

It's Cor's turn to look surprised, eyes widening a touch before he gets himself under control. "Of course you are. Are you scheduled for duty that day? We can get the schedules switched around." 

"No, it's not that," Prompto shakes his head, then shrugs self-consciously. "I'm scheduled to be off. I just wasn't sure... that whole 'no Crownsguard at Pride' thing." 

"Ah," Cor nods slightly. "It's a request from the community that we take very seriously, so don't go in uniform. But otherwise, you're not Crownsguard, you're just supportive. All are welcome." 

Prompto relaxes a little with a breath of relief. "Oh thank Six. I promised Noct I'd go and take pictures for him, but then I realized I'm officially Crownsguard now so..." 

"I go every year," Cor points out, and Prompto nearly smacks himself on the forehead. He knew that. He has a newspaper photo from last year of Cor in the middle of a glittery smoke bomb tacked onto his inspiration board. He really is an idiot. He wishes he could slink out of the office, but Cor is still looking at him thoughtfully. "Noctis asked you to go?" 

Prompto shakes his head. "I probably would've gone anyway, but like. Noct's the Prince, and public opinion about that kinda thing is still a little shaky, so even through he wants to go King Regis doesn't feel like it's a good idea. Plus it would mean tons of security and stuff and kinda get in the way of the festivities, so I offered to take so many pics it would _almost_ be like he's there." 

Cor's nodding slowly, his expression slipping into something Prompto has no idea how to read. He's still smiling, but his brows have lowered in a way that makes his eyes darken. "Even after so long... I wish they were freer to come, but even without public opinion, you're right about the security. It would restrict things too much and cancel out any goodwill that the royals attending might generate." 

"It's not fair!" Prompto bursts out, not trying to hold it in since it's pretty obvious Cor agrees. "It's supposed to be 'All are welcome', right? Doesn't that include Noct and Gladio too?" 

"It should," Cor agrees quietly with a sigh. "Someday it will." Absently, he hooks a finger under a chain looped around his neck, drawing his dogtags out from under his shirt. Prompto's surprised to see a golden ring strung on the chain beside them, though he only gets a glimpse before Cor closes his hand around it. 

Prompto has questions, but he senses it's not his place to ask any of them. So he just nods firmly instead, thinking about Noct and how much _fun_ they'd have if they were allowed to go to Pride together. "Someday." 

Cor focuses on him again, and lets go of his wedding ring to pull his phone out instead. "Here, give me your phone number. If you have any problems at Pride or anyone gives you trouble, give me a call." 

Prompto's pretty sure his jaw drops open in shock at being offered the _Marshal's personal phone number_ , but Cor stares at him expectantly until he fumbles his phone out and passes it over. Cor enters his number and moves to hand it back, then pauses, watching Prompto quietly. 

"...Not just at Pride," he finally says. "If you ever need anything at all, I'm here to help. Okay?" 

He won't let go of Prompto's phone until Prompto nods dazedly. Prompto quickly tucks it away, feeling oddly giddy and not sure what just happened. 

"Are you my gay dad now?" he asks, tongue running away from him before he can stop it. He flushes red again, but to his surprise Cor barks a laugh and grins. Suddenly Prompto can see the boy in the picture at Nocturne, bright and sharp. He's still in there, the Marshal's just grown up around him. 

"Sure," Cor agrees so readily that it makes Prompto's heart jump. "My husband's already adopted half the Glaive whether he admits it or not, what's one more?" 

Titus Drautos, Captain of the Kingsglaive, _his husband_. Pieces click into place, and Prompto's mouth forms a surprised 'o'. Cor smiles and puts a finger to his lips, and Prompto leaves his office with a whole lot to think about. 

\--------- 

Clarus Amicitia met Titus Drautos for the first time on the street outside Nocturne. 

He stepped out of his car, sighing as he saw Cor sulking on the front step of the club, arms crossed over his chest and a broad-chested bouncer beside him with a hand firmly on his shoulder. He could already see Cor's black eye, the bruises darkening his knuckles. "What was it this time, Cor?" 

"To his credit, the other guy started it," the bouncer spoke up before Cor could, surprising both of them. "He's already been escorted out and banned." He paused, hand still on Cor's shoulder, his tone turning wry. "But I thought considering Cadet Leonis is underage, I should wait with him until his guardian came to collect him." 

"That's considerate of you," Clarus' lips twitched upward despite the situation. Cor continued to sulk, and Clarus and the bouncer shared a wry look, both of them well aware that left on his own Cor would have slunk away and never mentioned the incident if he could get away with it. "I suppose I am the closest thing to his guardian." 

"Yours is the phone number he gave me," the bouncer confirmed, squinting a little at Clarus in the halo of the street lights. Clarus, dressed in jeans and a beat-up sweatshirt, straightened his shoulders and raised his chin to switch from Clarus Amicitia to Prince Regis' Sworn Shield. He saw the moment the bouncer realized exactly who he was, and relaxed again, waving off the sudden awkwardness and offering his hand instead. 

"Clarus Amicitia," he introduced himself properly. "Cor's currently living as my family's ward, so like I said, I'm probably the closest thing to a guardian. Though most of the time I feel more like a babysitter." 

Cor made an angry noise of protest, jerking his shoulder out from under the bouncer's hand. He glared at them both, then turned to stalk toward Clarus' car and climb into the backseat. He slammed the door, and Clarus sighed. 

"...Titus Drautos," Titus returned the introduction a bit belatedly, his gaze still lingering on the closed car door that sheltered Cor. 

"He isn't a bad kid," Clarus sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He felt like he'd been making this argument a lot lately; to his father, to the Marshal. Regis was on his side, at least, but sometimes both of them were at a loss for how to handle Cor's seemingly boundless, restless energy and fits of temper. Clarus didn't think he'd been nearly that bad at that age. 

"I know," Titus answered without hesitation, surprising Clarus a little. "He doesn't start fights, he doesn't drink. He defends anyone he sees getting bullied." He paused, and his cheeks might have gone a bit pink, but it was probably just a trick of the light. "He's persistent. To be clear, he's not banned from Nocturne. The boss likes him, he's welcome back anytime." 

Clarus blinked, caught by surprise. "I'm not sure..." 

"It's fine," Titus insisted. "He's not the worst of our patrons by far. And if he's here, at least you'll know where he is?" 

"True..." Clarus ran a hand through his hair again, then grinned wryly at Titus. "I don't suppose you want an official babysitting job?" 

Titus' eyes drifted back to the car again, and in the low light his expression was completely unreadable. "...Ask me again in a few years." 

\--------- 

"Did you really have to drag all of us here?" Luche grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest and grumpy scowl in place. 

It's later in the evening than Nyx had planned on, a couple weeks from when he'd initially wandered into Nocturne. Trying to get everyone rounded up after training and making sure they didn't run into the Captain on their way out had been like herding cats. Or, Nyx allows, herding Galahdians. Nocturne is busier than it had been on his last visit, there's actually a waiting line to get in. Nyx really hopes that the Captain and Marshal haven't already left, but from what the amused looking bartender had told him they come in nearly every Sunday night. 

"C'mon Lazarus," Nyx nudges him playfully, and dodges when Luche tries to swat him. "Maybe you'll get lucky! Maybe you'll get _laid_." 

Luche's scowl eases the barest fraction and he snorts. "With you, Ulric? No thanks." 

The line is moving, and all of them ready their IDs. The kids in front of them look barely out of high school, and Nyx tries not to look like he's watching curiously as the bouncer takes their IDs. To his surprise, the bouncer hands the IDs back without a fuss, and both the kids hold out their hands. The bouncer stamps the back of both their wrists; Nyx gets a glimpse of a stylized lion and realizes the bartender must refuse to serve anyone with a stamp. This is further confirmed when all the Glaives are let in without being stamped. 

The noise is significantly greater than it had been last time Nyx was here, and the dance floor is much more crowded. The lights are about the same though, which Nyx actually likes. Dimly lit dance clubs are not really his taste, and it bodes well when there's clearly underage kids about. Just glancing around Nyx can see at least three obvious bouncers in view, too, which is also reassuring. 

"Okay," Crowe raises her voice to be heard, rubbing her hands together gleefully. "You dragged us here, and you promised dirt. I want dirt, Ulric!" 

"I want a drink," Libertus grumbles, but he's looking around in interest too. "This place has fantastic cocktails." 

"You've been here before?" Nyx asks, incredulous, and Libertus gives him a look like he's lost his mind. 

"This is Nocturne," he says slowly, like Nyx somehow missed that. "The oldest and most famous gay bar in Insomnia. Of course we've been here before." He motions to himself and Pelna, who nods. Nyx feels mildly mollified, since a date is different than Lib just deciding to check out a place without him, but he's still a bit miffed they didn't tell him about this place afterward. 

"Ladies night is even better," Crowe chirps, and grins when Nyx turns the betrayed look on her. "You're _definitely_ not invited to ladies night, Ulric. Maybe I'll invite your sister though." 

"Don't you dare-" Nyx starts, and Luche sighs loudly. 

"Can we _focus_?" he scowls at all of them again. "Ulric, _why are we here?_ " 

"Right," Nyx glances around to get his bearings, then starts leading them around the edge of the dance floor, the same roundabout route he'd taken before to come up at the bar from one end. "So. I randomly came in here a couple weeks ago and saw something so fucking amazing I knew none of you would believe me unless you saw it for yourselves." 

One of the Astrals (probably Shiva, thank you Shiva) must have been looking out for him, because it's perfect and even better than he could have asked for. There's a break in the crowd at exactly the right, cinematic moment. Cor and Titus are at the bar again, near where they were before, though this time only the magenta-clad owner of Nocturne is sitting with them. 

Cor is, once again, perched on Titus' knee. This time, however, he's wearing very tight leather pants and a tank top that rides up to leave a generous strip of his lower back bare. Nyx can see the edges of what looks like tattoo ink, and isn't _that_ a thought to revisit later? Titus is wearing a t-shirt that must be at least two sizes too small, it's practically painted across the muscular lines of his back and shoulders. He's in jeans again, _white jeans_ , holy shit, and- 

"Are those... snakeskin boots the Captain is wearing?" Luche sounds strangled, barely heard over the music in the club. The five Glaive have almost instinctively huddled together (safety in numbers!), each with nearly identical wide-eyed looks. 

"Marshal Leonis is sitting there in leather pants and you're focused on Cap's _boots_?" Nyx makes a disgusted noise. 

"They're Blondo," Crowe tries to come off sounding bored, and can't manage it. "I have the same ones in black. Sweet Six." 

They watch as Titus leans over to murmur something in Cor's ear, and Cor laughs. He shifts on Titus' knee, wrapping an arm back around his shoulders to be able to more comfortably lean in and kiss him. 

"Holy shit," Nyx and Libertus breathe nearly in unison. 

"Gross," Crowe wrinkles her nose and looks away. 

Luche also looks away, his cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment. 

"I knew it," Pelna chirps, looking smug when the others whip around to face them. They shrug. "What? The gossip rags can't be wrong _all_ the time.... Oh shit. Guys." 

Pelna points, and with sinking hearts the rest of the Glaives look over to where Titus and Cor are now staring directly at them. There's no chance to try and slink away, especially not when Titus crooks a finger at them in very clear command. Even off duty, they sheepishly obey. 

Once they get closer, it's easier to see that Cor definitely looks amused. Titus is less so, but the Glaives have all seen him _truly_ angry before, and this isn't it. This is annoyance, sure, but not actual anger. Probably like a three on the Ulric scale. 

(The Ulric scale ranges from one to ten based on the volume of Captain Drautos shouting "ULRIC!" It is, as one might expect, usually used to measure Captain Drautos' annoyance at Nyx Ulric, though occasionally it's been used to measure his annoyance at things that are not Nyx Ulric. He has mistakenly shouted "ULRIC!" at Crowe once (it rated a four), Prince Noctis once (a six), and Tredd Furia thrice (four, seven and a half, and nine respectively).) 

Before either Titus or Cor can say anything, though, the man they're sitting with leans forward to peer around them at the Glaives. He's dressed in a pleated blouse and about three glittery scarves, and none of them have any idea what to make of him. Learning later that he actually _owns_ Nocturne and that he's known both Titus and Cor for thirty years doesn't help. "Oh my, what do we have here?" 

"Stray cats," Titus grumbles with a dry humour that shocks all the Glaives, though he's still eying them in a way that promises extra laps tomorrow. He still has an arm around Cor's waist, and Cor doesn't seem about to remove himself from Titus' lap, either. 

"Titus' work kids," Cor says, and Titus groans when Nyx makes a delighted little noise. "Kids," he addresses the Glaives, and Luche is the only one who doesn't look amused by that. "This is Ardyn, play nice." 

"We're always nice," Nyx tries, and Cor rolls his eyes. 

"No you're not, and I wasn't talking to you." 

"Charming," Ardyn coos. "Alas, I am taken. But it is a _delight_ to finally meet the fabled Kingsglaive. From the way Titus talks about you I would have thought to see you all here well before now." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Luche frowns suspiciously, and Pelna snorts in amusement. 

"Means we're all hella queer, Lu," they supply, and Luche huffs but can't really deny that. 

"Drinks to celebrate," Ardyn decides, clapping his hands and waving to flag down the bartender. This draws everyone's attention across the bar, and once again Nyx finds himself admiring the mural painted on the wall there. It's dramatic, but in a way that evokes classical paintings, and the detail is really incredible. Both young men have expressions of such love as they look at each other, and yet anguish since they know they'll soon be parted forever. 

"It's Hamlet," Cor says after a moment, when he sees them looking. 

Nyx blinks. "It's what?" 

Libertus makes an exasperated noise and smacks Nyx lightly on the back of the head. "Hamlet, dumbass. The play? About a Lucian Prince who gets caught up in the political intrigue surrounding his father's assassination. He ends up dying in his Shield's arms." 

"Not terribly historically accurate," Ardyn chuckles. "But poignant nonetheless. There has been much made of the subtext between Hamlet and Horatio over the years, it seemed a fitting symbol for our establishment. We opened back when same-sex relationships were still illegal in Insomnia." 

"And wasn't _that_ a delicate dance," Titus shakes his head slightly. "I don't know how you avoided arrest." 

"Pure cheek, probably," Cor supplies. He takes his drink from Gilgamesh when the bartender slides it across, and holds it up to toast before any of the Glaives can get far enough to notice the 'Leonis' signature hidden under Hamlet's boot heel. 

(He painted Regis and Clarus as he'd first met them, at ages twenty and twenty-five. The media hadn't been as omnipresent then as it is now, not as many pictures of them as young men are in the public consciousness. So far, no one has publicly made a connection between the mural and the actual men, and that suits Cor fine. He'd done it because he wanted there to be at least one small corner of Insomnia where his two dearest friends don't have to hide who they truly are.) 

\--------- 

Pride in Insomnia is everything Prompto expected. The crowds are massive, and there's glitter and rainbows everywhere. There's at least one person in a rainbow-maned lion fursuit, and Prompto asks if he can take their picture both because he wants it for himself and because he wants to know if Cor will find it amusing or flattering. Usually this many people and this much noise would make Prompto feel overwhelmed and anxious, especially when he's on his own, but somehow being able to use his camera as a shield helps a little. It's different when he's looking at the chaos through the lens of a camera, it helps him distance himself just enough that he doesn't get overwhelmed. 

Still, it's a relief when Cor texts him after the parade ends, asking if he wants to meet up and grab lunch. Prompto replies with an enthusiastic affirmative. Pride feels special, a little bit unreal, and all his awe of Cor feels more... balanced here. The Marshal is still his boss, but it's not the Marshal who's here. It's just Cor, who Prompto admires, and who for some reason seems to like him in return. 

He makes his way toward the cafe Cor had proposed as a meeting point, weaving his way between crowds and stopping to take pictures and selfies along the way. It's so nice to feel so... accepted here, like he doesn't have to try to pretend to be _anything_ other than himself. It's like the way he feels at Nocturne, which he supposes makes sense. He's just come in sight of Cor and is about to call out to him when he's startled by someone speaking right by his shoulder. 

"What the fuck is the Marshal doing here? No Crownsguard at Pride!" 

Prompto bristles instantly at the venom in the stranger's voice, because _really_?! Cor isn't even in uniform - deliberately so. Usually even off duty he makes his way around the city in his red-soled boots, a mark of pride and honor for all the blood he's tread in through his life. But today he's not even wearing those, nothing except his famous face distinguishes him from any of the other thousands of people here to celebrate and support. He's wearing a _rainbow sequined shirt_ , for Six's sake. 

Prompto starts to turn, anger and the urge to defend Cor overcoming his usual anxieties, but before he can say anything someone else nearby speaks up. 

"Are you a fucking idiot?" they scowl at the first speaker. Prompto doesn't recognize either of them, but the one speaking up to defend Cor is wearing a t-shirt with a rainbow-dyed Pride Chocobo on it, which Prompto cautiously puts down as a mark in their favour. "That's not the Marshal, that's Cor Leonis." 

"Uh, the Marshal _is_ Cor Leonis?" the first person speaks up again, tone and expression both conveying 'duh!'. 

"Do you see _any_ indications of Crownsguard?" the second person waves at Cor, who is thankfully still too far away to hear any of this. At least as far as Prompto knows, he wouldn't really put superhuman hearing past Cor. He wouldn't put anything past Cor. "Also, what the fuck are you on, Cor Leonis has been attending Pride for _decades_ , way before he got promoted to Marshal. He's literally a gay icon, and you want to tell him he doesn't belong here? You do realize that since he became Marshal the 'Guard has become way more inclusive and incidents of discrimination and brutality have gone _way down_ , right? The 'no Guard at Pride' thing is almost outdated, but they still respect it because it's so ingrained in our history." 

"...Oh," the first person says meekly, their eyes wide, and Prompto sighs. Maybe someday people will educate themselves before opening their mouths. Today isn't that day, but at least they seem willing to take the criticism. "The Marshal's queer? I had no idea..." 

"Hella queer," a familiar voice says, dry as the deserts in Leide, and Prompto almost jumps out of his skin. "I'd know, considering I married him." 

Prompto's eyes dart sideways, and sure enough, Cor's wearing his ring on his finger today, instead of on the chain with his dog tags where it won't foul his sword grip. Both the people who'd been arguing over Cor look just as spooked as Prompto, and they and everyone else in the near vicinity turn as Titus Drautos wades his way through the crowd. 

(Crowe's flanking him on one side, a rainbow feather boa wrapped around her neck and wearing a cropped tank top that has 'Glaive Lesbian' printed on it in glitter. She's half turned around, laughing and talking to Libertus, who looks serene and content. His tank top matches Crowe's, except it says 'Trans Glaive' and is cut deliberately wide enough in the arms and neck to show his binder. He's got one arm draped around Pelna's shoulders, whose t-shirt reads 'Enby Glaive'. Nyx is on Titus' other side, his manic grin reminding Prompto a _lot_ of a younger Cor. There are rainbow feathers braided into his hair, and he's completely foregone a shirt and written 'Pan Glaive' directly on his bare chest in glitter paint. Titus, long suffering and not nearly as annoyed as he usually pretends, is wearing a matching t-shirt that says 'Gay Glaive Dad'. Prompto really, desperately wants a picture.) 

"I didn't know the Marshal was married," the second person says with an almost awed hush, eyes wide as they take in Titus' admittedly impressive form. Titus' lips twitch up in an almost invisible grin, and he crosses his arms over his broad chest. He's wearing his ring today too. 

Without another word, Titus starts making his way toward Cor, as though looking to prove that yes, they're married. Nyx spots Prompto and raises his eyebrows, and Prompto grins and makes his way over to the three Glaives. 

"I've never seen Drautos at Pride before," Prompto admits, watching curiously as Titus taps Cor on the shoulder. Cor turns, and it's impossible to miss the pleased, surprised smile when he sees Titus. "I just assumed it wasn't his scene." 

"It's not," Crowe says, offering Prompto a lollipop, which he gleefully takes. "He doesn't like the noise and the crowds and the publicity. He overheard us making plans to come and said we'd need a chaperone." 

"I wonder about that," Nyx muses. "He hates the crowds, but he loves Cor." 

They watch as Cor and Titus talk quietly for a moment, their heads leaned together. It's an undeniably intimate pose, especially with the way their hands have found each others' and twined together between them. It's drawing attention, because even if Titus' face isn't very well known outside the Citadel, everyone in the city knows of Cor Leonis. Prompto can see at least three news photogs he knows, and one of the television cameras seems to have taken notice too. He starts to make a noise of warning, but Nyx's hand lands on his shoulder. 

"They know," is all he says, and Prompto nods and tries to relax. 

Cor raises his head enough to look around, clocking the cameras. He arches his eyebrows in a silent 'watch this', and then turns his head and catches Titus in a deep, passionate kiss. 

An audible gasp of surprise runs through the nearby crowd, and there's immediately the click of camera lenses (including Prompto's, because _holy fuck_ he's not going to miss capturing history). Libertus lets out a whooping cheer, which immediately gets taken up by others, friends and strangers alike. 

It's not the royals, but it's two of Lucis' top military personnel. It's a small step forward, but it's still a step. 

Public opinion begins to shift, and someday Lucis will be ready. 

Until then, there will always be Nocturne.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for Trans!Lib headcanons goes to @thisisthedungeonthatneverends on Tumblr.
> 
> The rest of the Glaive got shirts too. Luche's says 'Plain Gay Glaive', Tredd's is 'Dumbass Bi Glaive', and Axis' says 'Token Straight Glaive'.


End file.
